Miss Murder
by Tsuki-Megami-Chan
Summary: Bella Swan is not your average teenager. All her life she had been trained and taught one basic thing- emotions don't matter; love doesn't exist. Now she is on a mission- assassinate Edward Cullen. Failing will cost her life, but succeeding will cost his.
1. Prolouge

**Miss Murder**

**-:-:-:-**

**Isabella Swan is not your average teenager. All her life she had been trained and taught one basic thing- emotions don't matter, love doesn't exist. Now she is on a mission- assassinate Edward Cullen. Failing will cost her life, but succeeding will cost his. **

**-:-:-:-**

**Prolouge**

I bolted upright in the hotel's bedroom, and glanced at the digital clock placed on a wooden nightstand that seemed to be built into the bed.

4 o'clock a.m.

The time I was trained to wake up ever since I was brought to KC eleven years ago. KC stands for KILLER Camp. I am not obliged to tell you what KILLER stands for; that would be against the code, and code is law here.

I took out a can and sprayed the sheets and everything else in the room that I had come in contact with. I then sprayed what looked like an air freshener. I will not disclose to you the properties of how it works, but I will say that these sprays removed all evidence that I had ever been in hotel room.

I showered quickly and then dressed. I wore black leggings, a jean skirt, a skull shirt, and black flats. I then quickly applied make-up-- eyeliner, light eyeshadow, mascara, and lip gloss. I finished my look with my dark, straight, brown hair tied to the side with a long black ribbon. I examined myself in the mirror before checking the clock.

4:15. You must be ready to leave in an instant, dressed and looking normal. Looking normal, the reason I bother to even appear like a teenage girl. I'm seventeen, but I have no intrest in make-up, skirts, make-up, boys, make-up, or love. I did mention make-up, correct?

****

Rule 13 clearly state: 'Appearing average and not sticking out is ascential.'

I now head out to the front desk in the lobby. I know it is 4:17 by now. I must hurry, as to not get off schedule. Master would be displeased if he found his best pupil was not doing her job properley.

I stood in front of the man at the front desk to check out. He had a smile plastered on his face and was obviously tryign to flirt with me, get some kind of reaction onto my emotionless face. It didn't work. It never does; never will.

****

Rule 1 cleary states: Emotions are useless; love doesn't exist.

I saw that he wasn't going to give up anytime soon. Great. I raised an eyebrow, my pale face still staying emotionless and I could tell it was unnerving the man, so without further 'charm working', he asked for my name and purpose.

"Jenna Reed, checking out." I said calmly.

This was not my name; **Rule three clearly states: Giving out your identity is forbidden. You are to be adressed by your codename that has been asigned by the Master himself. When talking to a normal person, you are to give a fake name.**

Because you kknow so much about me and I must despose of you anyway, I will tell you my name. Isabella Swan, I am called Bella and Bella only. At schools I use the name Bella Crimson. Bella Crimson's parents often move around, so she lives alone to go to one school. Soon she starts to miss her parents, so she moves out of the school. That is the identity of Bella Crimson.

In actuality, when at a school of any kind I do my mission and then move. But, no one knows that it is me. They know it is Bella Crimson. And that is all on that subject.

I made sure that my fingerprints were aligned and then signed a paper wordlessly in a spidery scrawl that I find suited for the name I just used. I flashed the guy a fake smile, which clearly surprised him, before turning and stepping out of the hotel's doors.

Once outside, I opened my KC cell phone; **rule two-hundred and twenty clearly states: All students of KC must have a cell phone for the camp that only camp members and the camp master can reach them on. On this phone they receive missions. **

The screen blinked the words '_One New Text- view or ignore'. _I pressed the first option to open the text on which the label is new mission.

__

'Redfox,

Mission is- assassinate Edward Cullen.

Reason for mission- unavailable

Mission shall be completed by- The period of three months

Length extension- Unnecessary

Reinforcements- under no circumstances are to be sent

Location of target- Forks, Washington

Do well,

Master'

My eyes quickly scanned over the mission and I closed the cell after deleting it. This would be 's just another assassination, I won't need the full three months, and master knows it. After all, this will be my tenth murder.

--

****

End of Chapter.

How was it? Is it worth reviewing. Note: This is only the Prolouge so obviously it is short.

Side Note: First five reviers get a giant cookie!


	2. Chapter 1

**Miss Murder**

**-:-:-:-**

**Isabella Swan is not your average teenager. All her life she had been trained and taught one basic thing- emotions don't matter, love doesn't exist. Now she is on a mission- assassinate Edward Cullen. Failing will cost her life, but succeeding will cost his. **

**-:-:-:-**

**Chapter 1**

"Taxi," I called out, waving my hand above my head. No one stopped, so I whistled loudly. This time, five stopped at once, I naturally chose the one nearest to me. I stepped into the front seat, and slammed the door.

"Forks, Washington. If your too lazy to go that far, drop me off to another taxi. And step on it." I said coldly, and then turned to my window, staring out of it at the other still waiting taxi's. I felt the drivers gaze on me for a moment before he turned a corner and drove toward the south.

I wondered why he was taking a different route, but waved the question off. I stared blankly out the window for fifteen minutes before the driver stopped, suddenly, in the middle of no where. I turned towards him.

"Your a hot young thing, but you have such a gloomy face. Why don't I remove it and replace it with... pleasure." He said, and then began undoing the belt to his black jeans.

I now knew his intentions. I stared calmly into his dark, beady eyes.  
I looked at him in discust as he removed his shirt and smirked at me.

"Calm still, hm? That's what I like about you sluts; calm." He said, smirk still intact. I wordlessly rolled my eyes and stepped out of the car. He also got out.

"Running won't work, sweet heart." He said in a sickly sweet voice.

"You're wating my time." I said, turning and beginning to walk away. I was furious. Not only was I temporally stuck in this smelly waste land, but this hideous guy was trying to rape me.

He grabbed my wrist and spun me away. His face was inches from mine and I could smell his breath; he had obviously never bothered to pick up a toothbrush, I thought.

"I'm giving you a fair warning, which I usually don't do. But for the exception of how idiotic you are, I'll tell you that if you don't get out of my face and let go of my wrist, you will end up on the grown bathing in your own blood." I sneered at him.

"Oh, is that so?" He asked, getting closer. Three. Two. One. I clawed his bare chest with my sharp nails, and it started bleeding rapidly.

"You ugly, filthy little bitch!" I said, moving his hand out to slap me. He was fast, but I was faster, and grabbed his wrist. I only let go when I heard a sickening crack, signifying that it was broken. He fell to the ground immediately, grasping it tightly and rolling around.

I put a foot on top of his chest and put pressure on it. I could tell that he was beginning to have difficulty breathing, but I didn't care. After all, emotions were useless. So without further distraction, I pulled my pocket knife from my black leather purse that I stocked all my weapons in, and stabbed his chest. He died instantly; weakling, I thought, looking at him in disgust.

"No one messes with RedFox." I informed coldly, turning.

**Rule one hundred and fifty-three clearly states: Anybody who gets in your way during a mission must be disposed of. Kill them; they are of no use to us.**

In KILLER Camp, we were taught how to defend ourselves, which leads to killing the person. Anybody that tries to stop us from completing our mission is also killed. For us, seeing a person die or beg for mercy is a happy scene but I never felt that. I am still emotionless, though. I never cared. I NEVER CARED FOR ANYONE. And I never would.

I looked at my watch. 5:00 a.m.

I cursed the driver and kicked him; No one makes me get off schedule! He rolled from the kick quiet a few times. I removed a small can of what I had used earlier this morning and sprayed the bottle around and over the body. I then turned and began walking in the direction we came, stopping briefly to spray the taxi and making sure I left fake prints on the mans body and the taxi's door.

I began running. It took five minutes to reach a building, even at my speed. I stopped in front of the large structure, and walked into an ally near it. I then began scaling the side of it, and once on top of it, began searching the area around me. It wasn't hard to spot the large airport about five to ten miles away. And once knowing the direction and route's I needed to take, I slid down a pole to get off the building and into the ally, and came out of ally, a pretend look of fright on my face.

I broke into a jog that the average teenage girl would use and headed in the direction of the airport.

--

**Sorry it is so short but my mom has been yelling at me for the last three minutes to come get dinner... so... review to get some cookies! **


	3. Chapter 2

**Miss Murder**

**-:-:-:-**

**Isabella Swan is not your average teenager. All her life she had been trained and taught one basic thing- emotions don't matter, love doesn't exist. Now she is on a mission- assassinate Edward Cullen. Failing will cost her life, but succeeding will cost his. **

**-:-:-:-**

**Chapter 2**

I just arrived in Forks, Washington, after an annoyingly long plane ride, three bags of chips, two sodas, and some steak with potatoes. What can I say; I have an appetite. But that doesn't matter. I am currently in front of a highschool. Forks High to be precise. My target is inside building B room 209- Algebra II.

I park the red Harley Davidson that I just bought by a silver Volvo. The targets car to be exact. I examined it for a minute, for the reason that I have to know my target's interest. And this one seems to like cars, no doubt, or he's filthy rich and enjoys wasting money. Or both.

After doing a short inspection of the perfect vehicle for a speed crazed teen like me, I went into the large building labled 'Office.' I think this is the most secluded and retarded high school I've ever been to on a mission to murder under an innocent mask. But who am I to judge. I shouldn't need to judge anyway- I one without emotions, after all.

I stepped into the small building that should be just as it was named in another building-- an office. At the counter there was a red headed lady with a kind expression and a sweet smile. .She doesn't look as strict as the last office helper I've dealt with, I observed, or uptight, for that matter.

"Hi, my name is Isabella Crimson, and I would like to speak to someone who could get me the forms to inroll into Forks High, please." I said, as kindly as someone like me possibly could. I even squeezed in a fake innocent smile, which was forced, but the woman didn't seemed to notice as she looked at me approvingly and chuckled lightly at me 'cuteness.

"I can give you the forms, dear, and I hope you'll do okay at a school like this-- you seem too nice for your own good." She informed, taking out a thick stack of papers."Please have a parent or guardian fill these out." She added.

"Oh, would it be alright if I filled them out. I live alone, because my parents move so much. My dad said that he had heard good things about this school from a town he was passing, and suggested I stay hear as he and my mother go to Tokyo, Japan to study some new rare plant recently discovered there." I said, a what I hope to be sad expression now on my face. I couldn't be all too sure- I suck at this emotions thing.

Luckily, she looked at me sympathetically and shook her head. "Such an innocent your girl living alone. I just don't like that." She sighed, and reluctantly handed me the forms, pointing me to a beige cushioned chair to sit in and handing me the papers on a clipboard and two pens.

"The pens don't work well- you may need two to get through all that paperwork." She said, obviously thinking I was curious. I wasn't curious though- all the schools offices that I had been to had horrible supplies except at the rich schools. And I had only been on three missions to rich schools to kill from teachers to teachers children. Maybe they were innocent- I don't know.

**Rule 2 says from word to word that: "You are never aloud to ask questions as to why you are ordered to kill a person or thing. It is an order from the master so you are to carry it out with only the information that is given to you over your KC cell phone where you origanally are sent your missions. You **_**always **_**do as master says, even if he sends instructions to brutally murder an innocent child or family. There are no exceptions to this rule." **

Only I, being the supposedly dead granddaughter of the founder of KC, know that if you break this rule specifically you are murdered or abuse badly. If you plan on entering KC without memorizing ever rule word to word and following them, you are killed upon entry or placed at the lowest rank possible.  
Right after my parents ran off, my grandfather took me in when I was three and began training me under stricter conditions than others. I didn't love him, because emotions are unexsisting, but I came close to it. I didn't tell anyone this-- it came without saying, everyone loved the master, but if _he _was told this, everyone would die instantaneously.  
Of course, I never cared that he had destroyed the future as a normal person that I had. That future is just a far away, fading picture in the distance. Who would want to be normal- vastly overrated and terrible boring. I, for one, would hate to live one life over and over, day after day.  
Hate- that is the only emotion we could feel. But we don't feel it even though we are trained to- emotions don'ot exist, hate or love, fear or trust- they are lies that your body puts in you head for no apparent reason.

I took a seat in the beige chair and scanned the questions:

_**Name: **__Isabella Crimson_

_**Addressed by the name of: **__Bella_

_**Purpose for attending Forks high: **__Educational purposes_

_**Why attend Forks over other high schools: **__Personal reasons_

_**You live with: **__Nobody_

_**Gender: **__Female_

_**Age: **__17_

_**Weight: **__97 pounds_

_**Height: **__4 feet 11 inches_

_**Hair Color: **__Dark brown_

_**Eye Color: **__Brown_

_**Medical past (That we need to know of): **__None_

_**Put finger print here:**_

I went up to the woman at the counter and got a pad of ink, did my print (or more so fake print) and put the ink back. I then went back to answering Five more sheets of standardized and random questions for the next ten minutes. It would've taken the average person an hour, I realized, as I handed Betty, the red head, my paper work.

Once I turned in the paper work, I was handed the schedule that Betty had worked on. She also have me a map and told me that she had color coded everything and labeled what eveything was- as if I couldn't read a map. After five boring minutes of reviewing my schedule and where my classes were, she handed me seven sheets of paper that the teachers had to sign for my transfer to their class. It would be fourth period by the time I got to class, but she said, so I didn't have to come all the way here tomorrow, she would give me the sheets for the first three periods tomorrow. She also handed me a bag, that I didn't bother to check in. I would when I got out of this office.

"Okay... have fun... be careful, dear. And be yourself!" Betty called like a worried mother as I left the office to my first class. I meant to ignore her but found myself waving back to her. Why did I do that. There has to be some rule I just unknowingly followed- other wise I would _not _have just been so kind to her. Oh, yes, rule 302.

**Rule three hundred and two states: "On missions make friends with grown-up or children that can help you reach your goal. Even when they are unrelated to your target, they are still useful to have on your side. Make allies, keep a low profile, and pretend to have emotions on behalf of the rule stating to fit in." **

I then remembered the bag, and opened it. I pulled out what looked like a school uniform. I wondered why for a brief second- the population was so few. But I didn't bother farther than that. I headed into building C where my fourth period was. There had to be a bathroom somewhere, and after briefly surveying the map, I found one just as I walked in and turned right.

I went into the largest stall at the end of the bathroom. I then pulled out the uniform, and quickly put it on, adding my own 'style' here and there. I would go for cool punk here, I thought, after my hands began moving on there own to change things on the uniform.

I went out of the bathroom and examined myself in the mirror. I wore a long-sleeved white blouse with a black coat over it and a plain red tie that I had loosened over that. Over the black sleeve on one side of the coat I used a pin from my purse and attached a piece of fabric that matched my uniform's tie. I also wore a red plaid skirt with a belt that started at the top of it worn at the bottom of the blouse, covering part of it. I also wore plaid leg-warmers and the black flats I had on. I kept my hair tied to the side with the black ribbon, and grudgingly removed the eyeshadow I was wearing and dug into the most insignificant part of my leather purse- the make-up compartment, that I had for 'emergency purposes'. I put on eye-shadow that went with the uniform and reapplied other things carefully. I then glanced back at the mirror and exited the classroom.

I then headed to the end of fourth period-- English. I knocked on the door, and the male teacher, obviously I had something to tell him or give him, finished his instructions to an assignment and came out of the room.

"Yes?" He now looked confused, not recognizing my face. Of course teachers at a school like this would know everyones name and notice a new face- the population was far under any school _I _had ever been to. But this didn't bother me, nothing did.

"Um... Mr. Howards, I am suppose to transfer into fourth period English. My name is Isabella Crimson- I am called Bella, and I suddenly transferred under... personal circumstance." I informed, smiling fakely.

"Oh... sorry, yes of course your a transfer student... we just don't get transfer students here. Well, we have... but few of them." He said, smiling at me.

"So Bella, is it." I nodded. "Welcome to my class. Just follow me in- there are only five minutes left, but I will introduce you and seat you. Oh, and sign that form there, of course." He said.

"Okay? Let's go then." He finished. His eyes lingered on my uniform for a moment.

He reopened the door and every bodies eyes stayed on there assignment until someone looked up to see me following Mr. Howards in.

"Who is the hottie- she new?" He asked the guy beside him, smiling towards me. I ignored him, as his partner answered with a punch to his shoulder.

"She can here you, but she's mine." He winked at me, but I didn't turn to him- I didn't acknowledge any of the rumors or comments that spurted out of their mouths. Some ranged from slut to cool for girls, and for guys it was from hottie to how fast do you bet I can get this one in bed. Once Mr. Howard cleared his throat once, the room silenced, not wanting to miss what he was going to say about me.

"This is Isabella Crimson. She is called Bella, and she will be transferring into this class from this day on. Now, anyone with questions for her raise your hand now." Near every bodies hand shot up when Mr. Howard finished. "Yes, Jessica?"

"Like, what is with the slutty bitches, like, uniform? Like, it's so... like, ugly!" She said, glaring at me. Oh, so that was it, I thought quietly. But then I remembered a rule. **Rule Two hundred and thirty-one states: No one is aloud to ruin your reputation. **

"Jessica, was it?" I didn't wait for an answer. "I really hate when people try to make others insecure just because the person is insecure about them selves. And sorry, I'm not a slut. A slut is someone who is an immoral or dissolute woman." Her expression turned to confusion.

"I'm sorry, those words are just to big for you. In other words, a slut is someone who doesn't have morals or self-value. A slut is someone who wears short skirts and thongs. A slut is someone who shows their skin to get guys attention. So I am not a slut. Basically, I just described you." I said calmly. Everyone made sounds of approval like 'ahh' and 'ooo' and such.

"She totally burned you, bad." Another girl said, and laughter broke out. I looked at Mr. Howard and he seemed nervous and squimed slightly. I seemed to have that affect on a lot of people. The bell rang.

"Dismissed." He said, and handed me the sign sheet of paper. I exited the room and headed to lunch, as people surrounded me and laughed as they complimented me. I think I was fitting in well enough, I just need to get a few more people on my side. This mission will be a piece of cake. Now all I need to find, is the target.

--

**How was it? Please review to get the cookies. Oh, and sorry to those of you who's cookies haven't arrived- I did FedEx them! **


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